


Almez the Great

by Exceedingly



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-08
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exceedingly/pseuds/Exceedingly
Summary: A one shot story with original characters set in the Narnia universe. A Calormene general and his army take on Cair Paravel, but the general, Almez, has an excess of pride that will be his undoing.





	1. The Original Version

**Author's Note:**

> A story originally written for a high school English class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written way back in high school, in 2006. For some reason, I decided to rewrite it a few years back, which is what chapter 2 features, since this is a one-chapter story.
> 
> Original Header (on fanfiction.net):
> 
> "Well, this is a fun little assignment I recently had in English. I decided to actually put some effort into it, and I think it turned out pretty well. The look on my teacher and peers faces as I read it was priceless…
> 
> Disclaimer-type-thingy-ma-jigg: Yeah… uh… I obviously DO NOT own the Chronicles of Narnia, or any other of C.S. Lewis' work. So if you don't like me using his stuff… I suggest you get the hell over it. I don't have any money for you to take away from me anyway.
> 
> WARNING: This story is short, and only one chapter, but within this single chapter are things not meant for the squeamish. If images of death, dismemberment, and blood disturb you, do not read this. Also, the bold, italicized, and underlined words were vocab words we had to have in there, and the only reason I left them like that was so if their usage seemed strange, you can see that the word was only there because it had to be, not because I decided to use some funky word in the place of a normal, better-fitting one. If you don't like it: go die. NOW.
> 
> Well, enjoy."

It was early morning on the day of the attack. Almez and his Calormene army lay only a few meters from the open field outside Cair Paravel, the Narnian king's castle. Soon, the barbarian's fortress, along with the whole of the land of Narnia, would all be Almez's.

It was still dark out, and Almez, the **_opulent_** and war-loving son of a Tarkaan, sat near a large bonfire on the edge of his army's camp. He gave a smirk as he **_mused_** over how well his plan had gone so far. He had made great time in his crossing of the desert north of Tashbaan, and he had only lost one man to the intense heat. His smile widened as he then thought of Archenland's brutal defeat at his hands. He still remembered the wonderful feeling it had been to finally cleave the King of Archenland's head from his shoulders. The idiot had stayed defiant to the end, never once showing any fear, even as he was brought to his knees, and Almez's sword swung toward his neck. Ah, but it had been so good to see the king's eyes go blank in the cold stare that only the dead can give. And after that Almez had displayed the head for all the former king's subjects to see, and he had laughed at their horrified faces. He laughed, because he knew, and they knew, that Archenland had met its **_demise_**.

And now it was Narnia's turn. It was time for the pitiful fools that had so long eluded the Tisroc's grasp to finally fall. Not that Almez had any intention of just handing his new kingdom over to that fat, pompous idiot who called himself the Tisroc. All other Calormen people might **_extol_** the Tisroc, and wish he would live forever, but Almez hoped that the blowhard would one day choke on the food he always shoved down his throat.

Almez chuckled at the image of a choking and dying Tisroc, and what people would think of the **_duplicity_** within his mind. Then he turned his thoughts once again to the land he would soon own. These miserable barbarians didn't stand a chance against the might of Almez's army. And besides, his people had their god Tash behind them, and the Narnians had only a stupid lion. Not that Almez actually believed in Tash, but he knew that his army did, and that just saying the simple phrase 'In the name of Tash' turned the soldiers into nearly unstoppable beasts in battle. Anything that could do that, real or not, was better than an overgrown cat.

Almez looked to the horizon, a cocky smile still on his face, as the sun began to rise. "Finally," he said to himself, getting to his feet. "Narnia as we know it ends today."

Almez turned round to face his army, which was formed in front of him, awaiting his command. "Men of Calormen," a shout came from the army, "Today, we take Narnia!" Shouts and cheers rose into the air, and Almez turned toward his prey once again. "Men, forward, march!"

Instantly the troops behind him moved forward, with him at their lead. Someone in the back sounded the Calormene war horn, and then the drummer began to play. Almost at that same moment a horn came from the barbarian's castle, and the drawbridge of the castle began to lower. Almez and his men marched on, and after a few seconds Almez yelled to the sky "In the name of Tash!" A cheer came from behind him, and the stomp of the soldier's feet seemed to become harder.

Now the drawbridge was down, and the Narnian army was coming out. The barbarians were made up of hardly any men. Most of their 'army' was comprised of useless and **_unkempt_** small animals, such as mice, rabbits, and squirrels. The animals that really could do some damage, such as leopards, bears, and wolves, were in short supply. They had several dwarf archers, from what Almez could see, and a centaur or two. Almez laughed once more. Why, they were even more pitiful than he had first thought.

And now he saw his **_adversary_** , their king, walking through the middle of the mismatch army, to take a place at the front. The king had a determined look on his face, just like the Archenland king had. Almez could hardly wait to bring the insolent fool to his knees. He could almost feel the familiar feeling of a sword slicing through flesh and bone, and the wondrous sound it made.

"The king is mine, kill all the rest!" said Almez to his army, who yelled in acknowledgement.

And then the battle began. The animals in front of Almez charged forward, and the Calormenes behind lowered their spears. Almez stepped backward, so the animals would charge into the spears, and not him. Several of the more stupid animals charged to their death, but the smaller simply went underneath, and the leopards and wolves jumped overhead, ripping out the throats of several Calormene warriors. The two centaurs did none of these things, the just simply cut the spears to pieces with their swords, and then went in for the kill. And now the stupid annoying vermin at the men's feet was harassing their feet. One of the mice attempted it on Almez, put he ran the pitiful excuse for a warrior through, and then wiped it off on the grass. The dwarves, who all knew to be incredible bowmen, had taken out several of Almez's men as well, but now Almez had **_deployed_** his archers, and the dwarfs' numbers were diminishing.

Almez had found the king again. Almez had killed none but the mouse up to this point; he did not want to expend his energy on anyone except for the idiotic king. Now Almez really began to feel **_exhilarated_** , as the thrill of battle roared inside him. He assumed a proper fighting position, with his sword pointing towards the king. The king saw this, and then the two locked eyes. Both could tell the other was **_adroit_** in the use of a sword, and both knew that one had to die before this was over; there was no other way.

"Are you ready to die, king?" said Almez, saying the last word in a mocking tone.

"Not if it means losing my kingdom to you." replied the king.

The two were know circling each other, eyes unblinking. The battle raged on around them, but they were oblivious; they saw nothing but each other.

And then Almez leaped, and so did the king. Their swords clashed together, letting out a discordant note. The two warrior's faces were so close that they could feel each other's breath, and their eyes shot nothing but pure hatred towards one another. Their swords pulled apart, and then smashed together once more. The process repeated again, and then again, and then several times more, and their eyes never blinked. Then the swords pulled apart again, but this time the king swung his sword in a different direction than Almez had anticipated. Sslock! Almez didn't even know what had happened, until he felt the stabbing pain of a sword stuck in his side. His eyes widened, and a grunt of pain escaped his lips. He turned his head to look at the wound, and then he realized that his left arm was gone. It had been cut clean off.

The king took away his sword, and ceased fighting. He seemed to expect Almez to surrender, or start crying out in pain or rage. The king did not seem to expect what it was Almez actually did. While Almez did cry out in a rage, he also immediately retaliated, and ran his sword through the king's side. The king grunted, and dropped his sword, not expecting the sudden attack. He fell forward to his knees, which drove the sword in deeper, almost to the hilt.

And now Almez was hardly still sane. Blood lust was taking over his mind. His eyes were unnaturally wide, and had an insane look about them, which his disheveled hair, large grin, and bloody stump of a left arm did not help in changing. He let out a cry of joy, not even seeming to notice the fact that blood was still pouring from what was left of his arm, onto the ground.

Almez pulled the sword out of the wounded king, looked at it, laughed again, and then kicked the king in the face, which knocked the poor man onto his back. Almez slammed his foot down on the king's chest, and then began to speak, not just to the king, but to all around him. The battle seemed to have either ended, or stopped upon seeing the bloody Almez standing over an equally bloody Narnian king.

"Pitiful fool, did you really think you could win? Did you actually believe that Narnia could escape the Calormene fist forever? Your time of peace is at an end, now all of Narnia is mine!" Almez plunged his sword into the king's left shoulder, and then laughed again. All of his sanity was lost now. "What does your lion god have to say now? Nothing! He could never stand up to the might of the god Tash! And do you know what? Tash isn't anything either! I did this! I did this all on my own!" He pulled his sword back out of the king's shoulder, and waved it around, as he yelled to the clouds. "I didn't need some four-armed, chicken-faced man to help me! Tash and all other gods are a myth! There is nothing but man, and only he can control his own destiny!" At this his eyes narrowed, and he stared the king on Narnia straight in the eyes. "And I am about to choose yours. Your destiny is to die by my hands, and now, in the name of Tash - no! In my own name, in the name of Almez the Great, I shall kill you."

Almez swung his sword down for the final blow. But someone caught his arm in midair, and then the person said, "So, I'm a myth, am I?"

Instantly sanity seemed to refill Almez's eyes, and the widened things no longer seemed insane, but terrified. Almez very, very slowly lifted his gaze to look at his arm, his mind frozen with fear. Holding onto his arm was a bony, withered, and clawed hand. Almez's heart stopped. He let out a scream, dropped his sword, tripped over his own feet in an effort to back away, and fell down onto his back, the same way the king of Narnia was laying. A massive foot, not unlike the hand that had just grasped Almez's arm slammed down beside Almez's head, and an evil face enveloped Almez's vision to stare down at him. It was a feathered head, with a sharp beak coming and curving out of it. Blood red and dark eyes peered down at Almez's horrified face. One of four arms then slowly reached for Almez, whose eyes now seemed like they would bulge out of his head. He screamed an ear-piercing scream, which made the horrible creature take a small step back and straighten itself some. Then it stooped down and grabbed Almez by the scruff of the neck, no longer moving slowly.

"Well, Almez," the thing, which Almez knew, even in his terror, to be Tash now sounded angry. Its eyes narrowed to evil red slits. "This myth is about to send you to hell." With that, it held Almez as high as it could, with the now pitiful man still screaming, and now thrashing about. Then it threw the sobbing mess to the ground with all its might, but before Almez hit the ground both he and Tash disappeared from the face of the earth.

Everyone around just stood there in shock for several moments. The king, even though he was in pain, pushed himself to his feet. He looked around the battlefield, to see all eyes staring back.

"Men of Calormen," he said in a loud, booming voice, "Leave now. And do not ever come back."

Instantly, almost all the men turned tail and ran **_cravenly_** away. The few that tried to continue fighting were quickly stuck down. The King of Narnia wiped his bloodstained sword off on the grass, and then returned it to its sheath. He then turned back towards his castle, and calmly walked back to his home.


	2. The 2013 Rewrite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I decided to rewrite this in 2013. It's better, now that it's not relying on vocab words, but, you know, it's still a flawed work that reflects a view on religion I haven't held since well before 2013.

It was early morning, day of the final assault. Almez and his Calormene army lay buy a few meters from the gate of Cair Paravel, the Narnian King's castle. Soon, the barbarian's fortress, and all of Narnia, would belong to Almez… and the people of Calormen.

It was not yet light out, and Almez, the opulent and war-loving son of a Tarkaan, sat near a large bonfire at the edge of camp. He gave a smirk as he mused over how well his plan had gone thus far. They’d made great time in crossing the desert north of Tashbaan, losing only one man to the intense heat. His smile widened as Archenland's brutal defeat came to mind. He recalled the wonderful feeling that had shot through him as he cleaved the King of Archenland's head off his shoulders. The fool had stayed defiant to the last, his face resolute and a willful glare in his eyes even as he was forced to his knees and a sword rushed toward his neck. Ah, but it had been so good to see that glare disappear as the light behind it was snuffed out. Almez held the fallen king’s head high upon a spear, for all his former subjects to gaze at in horror. Horror turned quickly to sorrow, as those still living realized Archenland had truly fallen.

And now it was Narnia's turn. It was time for those who had so long evaded the Tisroc's grasp to finally fall. Not that Almez had any intention of just handing his new kingdom over to that pompous fool. Most Calormen might glorify the Tisroc, blessing his eternal rule, but Almez hoped the blowhard would one day choke on the food he always shoveled down his throat.

He turned his thoughts once again to the land that would soon be his. These miserable barbarians didn't stand a chance against the might of his army. After all, his people had the great god Tash behind them, and the Narnians had a wretched lion. Not that Almez believed in Tash, but his army did, and the phrase 'In the name of Tash' was enough to whip his forces into an unstoppable frenzy. And real or not, the monstrous Tash seemed a far more formidable beast than an overgrown cat.

The sun began to rise. "Finally," he muttered, getting to his feet. "Narnia meets its doom today."

Turning to face his army, already in formation, Almez roared in a deep and powerful voice. "Men of Calormen - today we take Narnia!" Shouts and cheers rose into the air, and Almez turned back toward his prey. "Forward!"

The army marched, Almez at their head. A Calormene war horn sounded, followed immediately by a war horn from the opposing castle. The drawbridge crashed down, and Almez yelled, sword held high, "In the name of Tash!" A cheer resounded, and the stomping of feet grew louder.

Drawbridge down, the Narnian army entered the battle zone. The pitiful forces had hardly any true warriors - most of their 'army' was comprised of pathetic vermin, such as mice, rabbits, and squirrels. The more dangerous beasts, such as leopards, bears, and wolves, were in short supply. There were several dwarf archers, and a centaur or two, but only a few dozen human men. A harsh laugh left Almez’s mouth. They were more pitiful than he could have imagined.

Finally the one he’d waited for took his place, striding through the mismatched army to take a place at the front. The King had the same resolute face and willful glare the former ruler of Archenland once had. Almez couldn’t wait to see the light behind those eyes disappear, just as thousands other lights before them had. He yearned for the familiar feeling and wondrous sound of his sword slicing through flesh and bone.

"The King is mine, kill the rest!" he commanded, his army roaring in acknowledgement.

Then it began. The animals charged and the Calormen lowered their spears. Almez fell back behind the wall of death, allowing the less intelligent of the vermin before him to charge to their death. The smaller ones scampered beneath the pointed wall, and several leopards and wolves managed to leap overhead, ripping out the throats of those they landed on. The centaurs then charged forward, their long blades cutting many spears to pieces, while the vermin at the Calormen’s feet began stabbing and slashing. A foolhardy mouse attempted to slice Almez’s ankle, but the pitiful excuse for a warrior was quickly run through, and its corpse wiped on the ground. The dwarves, excellent bowmen, had taken out several troops, but the Calormene archers had now deployed, and the dwarves’ numbers were diminishing.

The King entered Almez’s line of sight once more. None but the mouse had fallen to Almez’s blade thus far, but he was not bothered. The King was his target, and now sighted, the thrill of battle roared inside him. “King!” he bellowed, sword pointed straight at his foe. The King turned toward him, and the two locked eyes.

"Ready to die, King?" Almez said with a sneer, almost spitting the final word.

"Not this day,” came the King’s reply.

They now circled one another, eyes still locked. The battle raged around them, but they were heedless, focused on nothing but each other.

Almez leaped forward, as did the King. Their swords clashed, letting out a discordant note. Their faces were so close that they felt one another’s breath, their eyes doing the fighting for an instant while their bodies could not. Swords pulled apart, then smashed together again. Again and again, over and over they swung, eyes never blinking. The swords pulled apart once more, but this time they did not clash together. The King feinted and Almez took the bait, and then a sword in his side. He stopped, eyes widening, and a grunt of pain escaping his lips. The King pulled his sword back and quickly took another swipe, one Almez was not yet prepared to block. The second blow took Almez’s left arm, and he fell back, staring in shock at the wound.

The King paused, giving Almez a chance to surrender, but this bit of mercy backfired, as Almez screeched and charged forward with a speed he had thus far not exhibited. He ran the King through, causing the surprised man to drop his sword and fall to his knees, driving the blade in to the hilt.

Blood lust overwhelming his mind, Almez grinned, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips. Eyes wide and hair disheveled, he gazed down at the bloody stump of a left arm he now bore, then back at his skewered enemy. The King stared defiantly back, turning Almez’s grin into a menacing frown.

He ripped his sword out of the king, then kicked the wounded man onto his back. Slamming his foot down on the King's chest, he began to speak, not just to the man below him, but to all around. The battle seemed to have either ended or come to a temporary halt, all eyes now on Almez and the Narnian King.

"Pitiful fool!” he screeched, his voice frenzied and strange. “Did you really think you could win? Did you truly believe Narnia could escape the Calormene grasp forever? Your time is at an end, and Narnia is mine!"

He plunged his sword into the king's shoulder, giving another deranged laugh. His eyes were wild, his inhibitions gone. "What does your god have to say now? Nothing! He is nothing compared to the mighty Tash!” He paused, briefly considering his next words before letting them burst forth. “Bah. Tash! It was not a god that did this! It was I! It was my own might that won this battle, and all before it!" He wrenched his sword out of the King's shoulder, and waved it in the air, taunting the gods he did not believe in. "I didn't need a four-armed, chicken-faced myth to help me. There is nothing but man, and the might of the sword! We are in control of our own destiny!"

His eyes narrowed, pupils falling back upon the King of Narnia, sprawled below him. Their eyes met once more, and a sadistic grin enveloped Almez’s face. "Your destiny is to die by my hands, King. In my own name, in the name of Almez the Great, you will die!"

He raised his sword high and swung it down for the killing blow, but something grabbed hold of his arm and a deep, haunting voice said, "A myth, am I?"

The wildness instantly left Almez’s eyes, replaced with terror. Slowly he turned his head to look at his arm, where a bony, withered and immense hand grasped him. He let out a scream, thrashed his arm and dropped his sword, tripping over his own feet in an effort to get away from the horror that shouldn’t, couldn’t exist. He tumbled to the ground, on his back like the Narnian King. A massive foot, not unlike the hand that had grasped him, slammed down beside his head, and an evil face loomed before him. The monster had a feathered head and a sharp, curved beak. Dark, blood red eyes peered down, piercing through his soul. One of four gnarled arms slowly reached down to grab a now kicking and screaming Almez, raising him up into the air.

"Prepare yourself, Almez,” Tash growled, its mouth unmoving yet its voice omnipresent. Blood red eyes narrowed to slits, and its grip threatened to crush Almez’s bones. "This myth is about to send you to Hell."

The sobbing mess Almez had become was then hurled to the ground, he and Tash disappearing in a flash and a thunderous boom.

For a while, all was still. Then the King, despite great pain, got to his feet. He stared about the battlefield, and most eyes stared back, waiting.

"Men of Calormen," he called in a loud, booming voice, "Leave."

And they did. They fled, screaming in terror and confusion, the few that tried to continue the fight quickly stuck down. The King of Narnia wiped his bloodstained sword off on the grass and returned it to its sheath. Turning towards the castle, he calmly strode back to his home.


End file.
